Category Archives: Steel Decks and Glass Ceilings

A Public Relations, Marketing Ploy (which i detest) Made Selfishly Public

In the midst of my depression of how no one apparently listened to Rodney King in 1992 after the police had given him a horrific beating in Los Angeles when he said, “People, I just want to say, you know, can we all get along? Can we get along?” Apparently not.

i am wrestling with how to deal with this, opt out or somehow do or write something for positive change. i’m not even sure i can deal with making the decision. So today after several exchanges with friends on what is happening, i put it aside and went back to something dear to me.

i am excited about getting closer to finishing the first draft of my manuscript of my book. It will be a while before it reaches publishing quality, but closure is getting closer. Unless the old man keels over unexpectedly, i will finish the necessary revisions and publish it in one fashion or another. But it will be published. And, i promise it will not vary a great deal from my intended sea story and purpose for writing it in the first place. So this is something to tickle your interest, hopefully to make  you anxious to buy  q copy when i finally do publish it, an unabashed marketing tactic.

i don’t like marketing, especially when it doesn’t simply market the product but instead tries to induce you to buy it regardless with crazy promises, sex, happiness, and every other inducement the PR folks can think of using to hook you.

But here i am. This is the prologue for my book. i hope you find it interesting: 

Steel Decks and Glass Ceilings

Prologue

This is a sea story.

A sea story is a recollection of an event on ships at sea narrated by a mariner. The Naval Air Force and the Submarine forces, part of the Navy, also call their narrations sea stories, but that is a misnomer. They should be called air stories or underwater stories, but they still like to identify themselves with the Navy, hence: sea stories. Sea stories can extend to liberty or be about other military services, even about landlubbers, but always connected to the sea. The Army has war stories, similar in nature. I am not sure what the Air Force would call their stories, and the Marines have to be confused as to what they call their stories since they long ago expanded from their mission of extending military force from ships at sea.

A sea story is from the perspective of the narrator, and thus, as Kris Kristofferson put it in the lyrics of his song “The Pilgrim, Chapter 33,” is “…partly truth and partly fiction.” However, the narrator believes his sea story is truth, factual, with a little poetic license woven into the tale.

A sea story is usually oral history, a tale told to other seamen, usually around drinks at a bar. Or rather, a sea story used to be like that. I don’t know where Navy folks now a days tell their sea stories. This sea story is written by an old sea dog. Me.

Had I been more specific in my notes I wrote in my desk calendars and my spiral notebooks where I recorded my action lists and tickler for events, this sea story would have been more factual. Had this executive officer in his official capacity as navigator been more diligent in requiring proper entries in the ship’s deck log, I could be confident in many of the events told in this sea story, but I was busy with many other duties of what I judged to be a higher priority and signed off the monthly submission of deck logs to higher authority with cursory glances. Had I kept a daily diary, I would pretty much have nailed the events, but I was a love sick, recently married man, and my free time was spent writing letters to my bride back home.

I am telling, or rather writing this story for several reasons.

One: I believe this sea story points out how not over thinking about getting the job done and always approaching the tasks at hand by focusing on the mission and considering what is the right thing to do will nearly always work best.

Two: Women have been integrated into the Surface Navy as I write. They are on those steel decks in full force. But I am sure glass ceilings remain. When this sea story occurred in 1983 and 1984, the inclusion of women on ships was in its infancy. The female officers and enlisted aboard the first ship to spend extended out of port time at sea with them as part of the ship’s complement proved they belonged. Those women are the real heroes, er, heroines, in this sea story. They should be honored by both men and women who served after them. This is their sea story as well as mine.

Three: Our military forces, our government, and our citizens continue to lay social mores, current culture issues, and political positions over how military forces are structured and how those forces operate. These forces have become as much of a social engineering experiment as a fighting force. If we want the most effective military to accomplish its mission, then all of those layers should be disregarded. Our military personnel should be those who are best able to accomplish the mission. Neither gender, sexual orientation, race, ethnicity, nor religious preference should be limiting factors. I believe this sea story points out it can be done.

Four: I saw something work well for all concerned in a contentious, political situation because it was kept simple: Our captain was the guiding light doing it the “Navy way,” the right way. I think it’s a good story about the right way to approach contentious, political situations.

*     *     *

For numerous reasons, I have not used the real names for all of the people in this story, primarily for those people who created problems during the deployment. I initially decided naming these folks correctly was not a big deal. I checked with some experts who had more knowledge and experience than I and concluded naming the guilty was not my problem. I was willing to take the chance of my sea story generating a lawsuit by someone ruffled by my depiction of them. I wanted the story to be as accurate as it could be.

Several friends and my wife were concerned about possible libel suits from the guilty. Although I had considered such a possibility, this is not the reason I changed my mind about names. But with the number of folks voicing concern, I sat down to reconsider the situation.

I concluded naming those guilty folks would serve no purpose other than to put their names out there with a negative connotation for the public at large. During my two-year tour aboard Yosemite, there were four crew members, one female and three males, that drove me bonkers with their disruption of good order and discipline. Although I told myself I was only being accurate, I subconsciously could be harboring thoughts of revenge for the trouble they caused me. I am better than that, above revenge, above holding a grudge.

I have tried to do what is correct, what is right in my personal and professional life. I certainly haven’t been perfect, but I have tried. My good friend and shipmate during my last tour, Peter Thomas articulated this well in a discussion we had several years ago when I asked him what one characteristic, one competency was most important in being an effective leader. Peter said, “Do the right thing.” Peter’s words stuck with me, and I have considered what is the right thing in this instance.

The names of some guilty personnel are fictional in this sea story. I have given these individuals the generic name of “Schmidt,” followed by a number to distinguish one from the others. Why? Why not “Doe” or “Smith,” or even the old Navy moniker of “Joe Shit the Rag Man?”

Because for me, “Schmidt” is perfect.

I was raised in a strict Southern Methodist family. We didn’t have any booze in the house except whiskey flavoring for boil custard at Christmas. And at nine years old, I stopped that when my father was flavoring his boiled custard and preparing to pass it to one of my uncles and I asked him if I could have some for my boiled custard. After that there was no booze of any kind in our house.

There also was no profanity. Then, my father told a joke at the breakfast table on the Sunday before Christmas. I was fourteen, my younger brother Joe, was nine.

Daddy turned to Joe and said, “On one Christmas Eve, Santa was in his sleigh in the sky headed to give gifts to all of the children. His sleigh was being pulled by his reindeer with Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer in the lead. Santa was giving instructions to Rudolph about which roof to land on next. All of a sudden, Rudolph took a steep dive downward. The other reindeer followed and down came the sleigh carrying Santa.

“Rudolph and the whole shebang crashed into an outhouse. Santa climbed out of his sleigh, out of the outhouse basement and finally outside. As he wiped all of the foul content off his red outfit, he cried out, ‘Dammit, Rudolph, I said the Schmidt house!'”

My mother was aghast. My sister chuckled. Joe and I were rolling on the breakfast room floor laughing.

But as Paul Harvey used to say, that was not the end of the story.

As we often did on Sundays after church, we went to dinner (also known as lunch in other parts of the country) along with our Aunt Bettye Kate and Uncle Snooks Hall. It was a nice family restaurant on North Cumberland near East High Street. I don’t remember the name, but it was good and on that Sunday, crowded. We sat at a table in the middle of the room. The males, Joe, Uncle Snooks, our father, and I sat at one end. The women, Aunt Bettye Kate, Martha, and our mother sat at the other end.

Sometime during the repast, brother Joe asked our father if he could tell the Santa joke to Uncle Snooks. Daddy, with a mischievous grin, nodded it was okay. Joe, all nine-years old of boy, got excited and began to tell the story. As he described Rudolph going into his dive, Joe became more excited and increasingly louder. By the time he reached the part where Santa was climbing out of the outhouse and brushing himself off, he was practically yelling. Quite a few of the other diners had stopped eating and were listening.

When he reached the final line, Joe shouted, “Rudolph, I said the Schmidt house!” my mother was aghast again, Martha and Aunt Bettye Kate were trying to hold back their laughter, but Uncle Snooks, Daddy, and I were practically rolling on the floor.

Aunt Bettye Kate memorialized the event with a cross-stitch of the scene with Rudolph, Santa, the outhouse, and the punch line. I still have the cross-stitch and pull it out every Christmas to put it in a place of honor, and I laugh once again. My anonymous trouble makers have to be named Schmidt in honor of my family and the legendary joke.

There are a couple of more folks who might be embarrassed to be named in some of the situations during the deployment. Since they are not of the guilty kind, I have named them “Bilbo” also with a number in order of appearance in this narrative.

A Few More Thoughts Before Getting Underway

I have been either working on or thinking about working on this book for about thirty-five years. One of my biggest obstacles has been wanting to make it perfect, true, reality. But it can’t be perfect, true, reality. This is my perception of that deployment, a view as the USS Yosemite’s Executive Officer.

Although I’ve wrestled with writing the book, the working title, Steel Decks and Glass Ceilings came to me shortly after I left the Yosemite in late April 1985. I think it’s a keeper.

One guy who was a critical part to making the deployment a success was the First Lieutenant. George Sitton was a Boatswain Limited Duty Officer (LDO) Lieutenant. He was an old salt, the epitome of the old Navy on the deck plates. He also became a good friend. We kept in touch long after we left the ship. George passed away in 2006 in Tyler, Texas at age 59, way too early. George and I shared deck, boat, crane, and amphibious stories from our time at sea, especially on the West Coast. We knew many mutual shipmates from the past in deck departments and Boat Master Units.

I thought it was only proper to dedicate this book to George.

Background

This is a story of what happened quite a while ago. It is told from the perspective of the executive officer of the USS Yosemite (AD 19) when she was the first U.S. Navy ship to spend extended out of port time at sea with women as part of the ship’s complement.

I was that executive officer. I reported aboard 0830, Thursday, August 11, 1983. This is my sea story.

This tale is limited to Yosemite’s deployment when she departed her home port of Mayport (Jacksonville), Florida, September 9, 1983 until she returned, April 26, 1984. I have used my daily notes from calendars and spiral notebooks I kept at the time, invaluable input from shipmates during that tour, the ship’s logs, the daily “Plan of the Day” information sheets, letters between LT Noreen Leahy and her new husband LTJG Jim Leahy and the summaries of LTJG Emily Baker’s (now Emily Black) letters to her parents as well as those between my brand new wife Maureen and myself. I have relied extensively on recall of these and other officers: LTJG Linda Schlesinger (retired as a captain), LT Sharon Carrasco (now Sharon Friendly), LT Frank Kerrigan, Captain Tim Allega, and especially Captain Francis J. Boyle, the commanding officer, in addition to sailors who are members of the Facebook group “USS Yosemite (A.D-19) I.O. cruise 83-84.”

In that gathering of information, I found there were numerous recollections that did not jive with other’s recollections of the same events. It has been almost 40 years since the cruise, and each person involved remembers from a different perspective. I have tried to be as accurate as possible.

But this is a sea story.

It also was an important time for the Navy.

Women and the Navy

Women have long been a part of U.S. Navy history. But the move toward equality and full opportunity for women in all facets of our Navy began after I was commissioned in 1968. The Navy and the world was changing.

In 1972 the pilot program for assignment of officer and enlisted women to ships was initiated on board USS Sanctuary (AH-17).

In 1976, eighty-one women became midshipmen at the United States Naval Academy.

In 1978, Congress approved a change to Title 10 USC Section 6015 to permit the Navy to assign women to sea duty billets on support and noncombatant ships. The Surface Warfare community was opened to women that year as well. In 1979, the first woman obtained her Surface Warfare Officer (SWO) qualification.

In 1979, officer and enlisted women began to be assigned to Navy ships. The ships were mostly tenders or repair ships, which had limited time at sea. Also in 1979, Ensign Deborah A. Loewer who had been at the top of her class at the Navy’s Surface Warfare Officer School after receiving her commission from Officer Candidate School (OCS) in Newport, R.I. was one of the first women to report aboard the USS Yosemite (AD 19). She later earned her two stars and served as Vice Commander, Military Sealift Command.

In 1980, fifty-four female midshipmen in that first class graduated and were commissioned from the Naval Academy.

During this initial integration of women into sea duty, tenders began deploying to Diego Garcia, the British territory in the Chagos atoll chain almost smack in the middle of the Indian Ocean. The concept was for the capital ships to come into Diego Garcia’s lagoon where the anchored tenders would provide maintenance, repair, and other services. This put women on ships really going to sea, not on ships sitting in port on a stateside Navy base, but going places where Navy women on ships had not previously gone.

The Yosemite’s Adventure

After my reporting aboard, Yosemite transited the Atlantic Ocean, the Mediterranean Sea, the Suez Canal, the Red Sea, and the Indian Ocean, arriving and anchoring in Diego Garcia, “The Footprint of Freedom” in October.

Captain Francis J. Boyle, Yosemite’s commanding officer recommended to the chain of command she transit north to Masirah, Oman to be closer to ships in Battle Group Alfa. After ten days in Diego Garcia, the recommendation was approved, and Yosemite was sent north, anchoring off the island of Masirah, Oman where ships of the USS Ranger (CVN 61) Battle Group would come alongside and receive the equivalent of a two-week restricted availability in four days.

The women of the crew and the wardroom performed extremely well. Their contributions made the deployment and my two-year tour a success. The Yosemite received a letter of commendation as a member of Battle Group Alfa (the Ranger) Battle Group, something rare if not unique for a repair ship. She was also named the most outstanding repair facility, ship or shore of any kind, in the U.S. Atlantic Fleet. This is the success story of the Yosemite for which both the men and women sailors and officers should be credited. She was the first Navy ship with women as part of ship’s complement to have extended out of port time beyond straight transits from one port to another.

Some Thoughts on my Memoir

The story is also about how this executive officer dealt with the tour as “number two” in my penultimate Navy assignment and my last operational tour.

A number of enlisted personnel also gave me input, a valuable look from a much different angle. Their recollections of the deployment, which I collected, gave me pause roughly three-quarters through the first draft. Their recounting required me to consider, as Bob Seger sang in “Against the Wind,” “…what to leave in and what to leave out.” For those who are not familiar with Navy ships, they may not be familiar with the difference between an officer and an enlisted perspective.

I was not blind or so innocent to believe nothing was going on between men and women on board. I knew how sailors could figure out how to make anything happen if they wanted something to happen. I also knew they were much more cavalier about adhering to regulations than officers. I also knew Mark Twain was correct in his Letters From the Earth, and sex was a primary drive of humans, especially the young ‘un’s

Executive officers are four levels above what is happening on the deck plates: department heads, division officers, chiefs, and leading petty officers are between them and the sailors on those deck plates. The XO’s focus is on the ship’s mission, her daily operation running smoothly, coordinating the operation of each of the departments and special staff, and most of all ensuring he or she reflects the demands, the desires of the commanding officer, even the way the XO projects his or her image, to support the CO at all times. So even though I suspected there was fraternization occurring, it was not easily detected, and I could not have stopped it without having taken draconian actions.

My Story

This old salt was surprised with what ensued after I reported aboard. What I experienced convinced me there is a right way and wrong way to bring about change.

The women aboard Yosemite during my time as executive officer proved fully capable of handling duties at sea. During this period when the program was under negative scrutiny from the senior bureaucracy of the Navy and the vast majority of male officers and sailors, the women enthusiastically went to work. There were problems just like there were problems when Navy ships only had men on board, just different problems. Ignoring all of the political maneuvering from those who wanted women to have the right to go to sea and those who were dead set against such a policy, Yosemite men and women rose to the challenge and proved it could be done. Successfully.

The tour also was my final attempt to be selected for command at sea. My final career goal did not reach fruition. Yet, my tour aboard Yosemite as her executive officer was one of the two most rewarding of the eleven tours I had during my twenty-two years of service.

This is my story as best I remember it, or to paraphrase my longtime friend and shipmate JD Waits from out time on the USS Okinawa (LPH-3): “This is my story, and I’m sticking to it.”

Chapter 11: Time for Reflection, Change, and Loneliness

This is a break in many respects. My old microfiche reader broke, i’m working on repairing, replacing, or going to the one place in San Diego with a microfiche reader and printer. For me, the story of my time on Cayuga is relevant in my being as prepared for the Yosemite as much as possible. i hope you enjoy it and see my purpose.

As with all things, the one thing constant about Yosemite’s stay off of Masirah was change. Change was doubly hard on me, I think. I was trying to make all things work, and recalled a comment, illustrated by a cartoon from a former captain.

Commander John Kelly, later Captain Kelly, was the commanding officer of USS Cayuga (LST 1186), which was a ship in Amphibious Squadron Five out of San Diego in the spring of 1980. I was Current Operations Officer on the squadron staff. At the conclusion of  a Wednesday morning “message meeting” of the staff, Commodore Jim McIntyre asked for a volunteer with no explanation for what the volunteer was volunteering. The staff of two dozen officers and enlisted were silent. After several seconds, I raised my hand, thinking “what the hell?”

The commodore looked surprised and then said, “The Cayuga needs an executive officer immediately. come to my cabin after this meeting and we can discuss.”

When I sat down with the commodore, he was amazed I had volunteered, especially since I was the only officer on the staff he could have selected for the job. There were only two lieutenant commander surface warfare officers (required to fill the LST XO billet on the staff) and the other was the material officer up to his knees in alligators in the maintenance of squadron ships.

Captain McIntyre explained, “Jim, Captain Kelly is desperately in need of an executive officer. His XO was taken off the ship in a straight jacket to Balboa (the San Diego Naval Hospital) this morning. He had a complete mental breakdown. The Cayuga has had a lot of problems.

“While they were in the yards at Long Beach, a personnelman (PN) hung himself in a fan room. The Philippine community was up in arms and began protesting at the yard gates and the entire mess made the newspapers and the LA TV news.

“Then about two weeks ago, a boatswainmate was killed when an alongside training barge was alongside, and they were conducting unrep training. A line parted and the boatswainmate was hit in the head by a block and tackle that broke loose. They apparently did not set up the rig according to instructions. The first lieutenant is under investigation by JAG.

“They start Amphib refresher training next week.

“You still want the job?” he asked.

I replied, as a good Navy officer should, “Aye, sir,” adding the caveat “But you must promise me I get the weeks of leave you approved for two weeks from now after I have completed the job. My eight-year old daughter is scheduled to come out here for a vacation. That is most important to me.”

Captain McIntyre promised to allow me my leave.

I interviewed with Commander Kelly the next day and was accepted. I reported aboard on Thursday morning.

Judging by the “In”  and “Hold” baskets on his desk in the XO cabin/office, the outgoing XO had not done any paperwork in six months. Personnel advancements had not been forwarded. Critical reports had not been sent. On my first “messing and berthing” inspection, I found total disarray. Racks were not made. Dirt, paperwork, and leftover food and coke cans were everywhere. Cigarette butts and ashes were strewn. Roaches and grease ruled the galley and the mess decks.

I held an all-officers meeting in the wardroom, took feedback from all of them, and laid out a plan, reporting the plan to the captain. I stayed on board for two months, going to my apartment once a week to collect mail and check on my belongings. I actually stayed at my place three nights, giving myself a break once, and the other was to run the Fourth of July Coronado half-marathon which I had entered the day before I “volunteered” (I was also too busy to train after becoming XO, and the half-marathon, my first, was a killer in rare ninety-five degree heat. But i made it, slept off the effects that evening and limped back to the Cayuga the next morning.)

As the two months neared the end and Cayuga had successfully completed the refresher training, the CO recommended to the bureau of personnel I remain the XO and complete a two-year tour. The Commodore endorsed the recommendation, but the bureau explained they already had a Naval Academy graduate in the pipeline who had completed the pre-XO training course.

I transferred back to the flagship by hi-line as the squadron was en route Esquimalt, British Columbia, the Canadian Navy port for Victoria on Vancouver Island. I met Blythe at SEATAC the day after we anchored out. We had a wonderful time in Victoria, with my friend Cy Fraser on Orcas Island, Seattle, and back in San Diego.

When I departed, Captain Kelly had drawn a cartoon of me. It referenced a conversation we shared near the end of my stay on board. He told me he was amazed at how I performed. It was like I was dribbling a half dozen basketballs at the same time. I replied it was more like a dozen basketballs and most of them were only half inflated.

He laughed and the cartoon had this balding XO attempting to keep about a dozen basketballs bouncing at the same time.

It had been a rigorous two months for me. I was disappointed the Navy did not let me complete the tour as it would have completed that check for advancement and been back on track for command at sea, my ultimate goal. In the late nights as Yosemite’s XO, I often reflected on how my experience on Cayuga had given me the right experience, the right perspective, and made my current XO tour easier to digest.

*    *     *

Sitting at anchor at the top of the Indian Ocean was still not a pleasant prospect. When we learned our initial ten days off Masirah had been extended until 1 January, I was upset and even lonelier when I wrote Maureen a note:

Lady,

New word. Schedule has changed again. i didn’t believe it possible, but it’s for the worse. We are now going to stay anchored in this miserable place for a long time. It has been requested we remain here through January 1, 1984. i guess i don’t mind. This is all marking time until i get back to you, but the crew will be bug shit by the time we hit a liberty port. Sure wish i had a tape to tell you all of my frustrations.

Mail call yesterday and none from you. Terribly disappointing but i’ve not been as good as you in writing. i really do go up and down in this job. Hope there’s some mail from you Saturday, even a lecture would be welcomed. Did Blythe tell you i called her? i may talk to you on MARS if get the reception back, but i greatly dislike exchanging thoughts with “over” interrupting.

My god, how i love you.

Got a great letter from Joe (my brother). i may send you a copy. This is a note getting out of hand.

i love you.

jim

Al Masirah, Oman
November 9, 1983

My focus was on our unique situation: 100 enlisted women in a crew of 900 and 6 female officers in a wardroom of 44 on a ship anchored of Masirah, Oman for what appeared would be at least two months. Our rules for male/female relationships were clear and in place. i was glad there had been no overt violation of those rules but didn’t know actually how effective those rules actually were. i and my admin staff were also aware the women were young sailors but women none the less. We attempted to keep them informed about uniforms and dress. This was a new world for me. An example was one POD note:

7. Grooming Standards (women) Hair pieces — Hair pieces or wigs, if worn while in uniform or on duty status shall be of good quality and fit, present a natural appearance, not interfere with the proper performance of duty, not present a safety hazard, and shall conform to the grooming standards set forth in these regulations.

Cosmetics — Cosmetics shall be conservative and in good taste.

This reads strange and out of touch while I enter it 35 years later.

We were in unknown waters in many respects.

Chapter 10: Settling into Busy

i am back. It took a while. Liberty in Scotland and Sonoma was even better than expected. Home tasks became a priority. And, on top of that, i had “writer’s block.” It wasn’t really “writer’s block” but it was close. Now that what i post as part of the book is written on the fly while earlier posts were rough edits of already written chapters, it takes more time to go through my sources of ship’s logs, POD’s, my notes, and other ship documents and actually get things on paper.

Also, not having my mother’s incredible memory, i wrestle with what to include when others’ memories do not coincide with mine. i want to get it as correct as i possibly can so i wrestle with what really happened those thirty-six years ago. This post took exceptionally longer because i found it difficult to determine, as Bob Seger sang, “…what to leave in; what to leave out.

Please remember this is a rough draft of what i intend to be the final manuscript for the book. For those who were there, if you have input or recall things differently than i record here, please let me know. i do wish to get it right. But after i have considered all inputs and my sources and make my final draft entry as i stated in my prologue, that’s my story and i’m sticking to it.

Chapter 10: Settling Into Busy

Although he stuck to his guns about proper support for his commanding officer through the rest of the deployment and, for that matter, his entire tour on The Busy Lady, the XO was too busy himself and didn’t have time to dwell on his mistake.

It was a new world and the ship was setting up a routine that would work but with constant changes in an unknown environment. Even before the USS Fletcher came alongside for our first “TAV” (Tender Availability) off of Masirah, we began a routine for Tuesdays, which would last throughout all of our time in the North Arabian Sea: “UNREP” (Underway Replenishment), which for Yosemite meant “VERTREP” (Vertical Replenishment) was conducted every Tuesday.

Each early Tuesday morning, beginning the first of November, the ship would set Flight Quarters to receive helicopters hovering and lowering supplies to our “DASH” deck. This was also our method of transferring personnel who had completed their tours on Yosemite. The personnel would be hoisted from the deck to the hovering helicopter, taken to the Masirah air base and further transferred to Diego Garcia, then on flights out of the Footprint of Freedom to various airports before eventually arriving at their new duty stations.

Almost every Tuesday, the ship would set Flight Quarters around 0630. The captain and the XO would go to the bridge to observe the evolution and by sound-powered phones communicate with George Sitton, the first lieutenant, who ran the operation from the DASH deck, offloading the supplies and shuttling them to the working party which would further transfer the goods, usually to supply or repair personnel. The flight quarters crew also would hook up the transferring personnel to be hoisted into the service force ship’s helicopter or new personnel being lowered to our deck. Depending on the supplies to be received, this could be a three or four hour evolution or infrequently more than eight hours.

This first VERTREP lasted only an hour or so. The USS San Jose (AFS 7) and her sister ships would be vital to Yosemite for our stay off of Masirah.

Of three surface communities, destroyers, amphibious, and service, the service group had the most arduous sea duty during those days and previously. Now most service ships vare USNS ships under the administration the United States Marine Administration (MARAD) manned by the merchant marine.

Service ships: oilers, tankers, combat stores, and ammunition ships would conduct their transfers to the carriers, cruiser-destroyer groups, and amphibious groups, then steam back to a port to replenish their supplies and head back to the units at sea. There in-port time unlike the other deployed Navy ships was essentially working around the clock rather than liberty. It reminded me of the grueling routine of the merchant marine ships I rode as the XO of a transport unit in charge of managing embarked Korean troops to and from Vietnam (1970). They had my utmost respect.

Service force ships such as the San Jose, a combat stores ship, made Yosemite’s stay off Masirah bearable with not only supplies and material for our work at hand, but also for our supply of foodstuffs for our own meals. Since we had stocked up in Diego Garcia before our transit, this was a quick resupply.

After the VERTREP and the Fletcher’s mooring alongside, the Fletcher’s “arrival conference” for her maintenance availability began right after the noon mess. This was preceded by the Fletcher’s commanding officer meeting Captain Boyle in Yosemite’s captain’s cabin, a procedure, which would be de riguer for all of the availabilities during the deployment. i would attend the bulk of those meetings.

The “arrival conference” was a detailed, expanded version of the beginning “Restricted Availabilities” (RAV’s) Yosemite and other tenders conducted back in the states. Critical repairs and maintenance were discussed. Work priorities were set, the correlation of the tender’s and ship’s force was delineated, and a schedule was laid out to complete the work on time. During our time in Masirah, we also discussed the rules we had concerning relationships between our crewmembers, especially the female kind, and the all male crews of the tended ships.

The helo ops, the Fletcher coming alongside, and the arrival conference were just a few of the items on the XO’s list. My spiral notebook action list went from one or two pages to four to six. My tasks varied from working how the crew could record tapes to send home to family, working on tides and the scheduled garbage dumps, ship’s plaques, our divers cleaning our own hull, the condition of the auxiliary gyro compass, urinalysis procedures and scheduling, the commanding officer’s cabin air conditioner, radio messages responding to higher authority, enlisted evaluations, smoking and coke can rules, etc.

I was now in all-ahead-full running mode. Sometimes late at night after Eight O’Clock reports and my evening meeting with the captain, followed by the chaplain, the first lieutenant, and the doc dropping by my office, I continued my quest to streamline and update the ship’s regulations, which was usually interrupted by another letter to Maureen. I realized I really enjoyed this stuff. I was a great example of Mazlow’s highest stage of “self-actualization.

A Navy officer at sea is a busy man (or woman). There is little time to dwell on the loneliness of being away from home. Previously for me, the grind was interrupted by standing bridge watches or conducting amphibious or anti-submarine operations, but as XO, it was all management and administration except for the rare moments when I would participate in a evolution like navigation or bringing ships alongside.

The rigor probably kept me sane.

I also was playing my role and understood the XO was the bad guy, the enforcer. In Thursday’s Plan of the Day, November 3, my handwritten note showed me baring my fangs:

If the XO finds coke cans or cigarette butts and ashes as plentiful about the decks as he did today, the smoking lamp will be put out throughout the ship and the sale of cokes and cigarettes will be halted. No joke. No game. Get hot. No smoking in passageways nor topside. Violators will be put on report.

Cleanliness, good order, and discipline were the responsibility of the executive officer. I was getting used to the role.

On Friday, November 4, the Fletcher concluded her availability and got underway at 0800. An hour later, the USNS Passumpsic (AO 107), an oiler and former Navy ship, maneuvered alongside and refueled Yosemite. It was likely the first time these two ships tied up together in an open sea. Neither had the mobility of the cruisers and destroyers Yosemite received Passumpsic alongside to port. The maneuver went off with no difficulty. The refueling went off without a hitch and Passumpsic was underway early that afternoon.

The next day, flight ops again were set at 0630. At 0700, The USS Benjamin Stoddert (DDG 22) came alongside for our second maintenance availability. As soon as she was tied up to our starboard side, flight ops with the USS Camden (AOE 2) for transfer of our personnel to Masirah and then on Diego Garcia were conducted followed by helo ops and supplies and personnel transfers with the USS Ranger (CV  61), the flagship for Battle Group Alfa. The captain had the CO of the Stoddert over for lunch in his cabin and the second “arrival conference was held at 1300.  And to keep things hopping, another round of flight ops was conducted with the Camden, beginning at 1500, for another two hours.

It was a busy day.

The crew was getting into a routine, a busy routine, and this XO believed it was a good thing. We needed to keep them busy. And they certainly were busy in their first week off Masirah.

But they still were missing home. We attempted to assuage the loneliness, especially for the majority of the crew, which had never deployed before with means to communicate back home. A POD note let them know of another method to contact home:

11. Want to send a message home?? The Yosemite has a service onboard that not too many people are familiar with. It is called the Class “E” message service. The Class “E” message is a service provided by radio in which any crewmember stationed onboard the Yosemite can send a message to any person ashore they desire (i.e. wife, husband, girlfriend, boyfriend, parents, and anyone you desire, provided they reside in the Continental United States. There is a charge for this service…The reason for the charge is these messages are transmitted thru the Western Union Telegraphy Co. This service can only be provided when the ship is away from its homeport…

This was news to the executive officer. I had spent eleven years at sea and did not know (or did not remember) Class “E” messages were available. For me, that was okay. One of the best things about going to sea was the ship becoming my primary focus. Connecting with folks back in the States was for late night letters and crazy all-night waits in foreign liberty port telephone stations for expensive and short calls back home.

The Class “E” messages also had to be reviewed. Who got that job? Why the executive officer, of course. I was the censor and the security screener for such messages. There were not a huge number. I was not supposed to divulge the content to anyone (of course, if there was a security matter contained, I would consult with the captain). Reviewing the content made me aware of how lonesome some of the crew actually were. There was some real drama in numerous ones I read, and admittedly, some made me laugh out loud.

*     *     *

Daily, we tossed our garbage (and there was a lot of garbage with a crew of 900) timed to the outgoing tide. We were making the effort to keep any of our trash from floating ashore. This was not easy, even if we stuck to the ebb tidal flow. We put one or two of our small boats in the water to watch for wandering garbage.

One handwritten POD note from this XO, on that busy Friday mentioned above, praises on busy sailor:

Busiest sailor of the day: SN Warren who worked help ops, handling cargo loads to helicopters, then was part of the boat crew to sink the wandering barrel (of trash).

The hard work and the loneliness was somewhat assuaged by the evaluation of the Fletcher to Yosemite and our chain of command arriving by radio message on Monday, November 7 (and passed along to the crew):

Overall Evaluation of TAV (with Yosemite) is outstanding. Yosemite’s efforts, spirit, and professionalism was impressive as the statistics above demonstrated. Yosemite is a can do ship that does…Ref A (TAV report from Fletcher) details the astounding amount of work completed by Yosemite during Fletcher’s four day TAV. The pride and professionalism exhibited by all concerned was obvious from the start of the availability and proven by the quality and quantity of the jobs completed. We are proud to have had the opportunity  with you and wish that you were San Diego based. All of us in America’s finest destroyer salute you.

Similar praises continued from every ship receiving Yosemite’s services for the rest of the deployment. For me, this kind of evaluation from ships and sailors made my decision to report to Yosemite a good decision.

I felt good about what we were doing. I felt good about how i was doing my job. There were numerous frustrations, but overall, we were doing well. It seemed the crew was handling women as part of the crew in the right way although I remained wary.

But our wrestling with the garbage was not over.

Liberty Call

Well, i wasn’t expecting liberty to come upon me this fast.

Saturday, i will be leaving for 13 days of liberty in Scotland. There are six of us going to Edinburgh, Pitchlory, Isle of Skye, and Inverness. Sounds nice. i’m sure i will enjoy it.

i especially am looking forward to visiting the University of Edinburgh. The professor who influenced me most through my five-plus years at Vanderbilt and Middle Tennessee was Dr. Bill Holland. When i came to my senses and changed my major from civil engineering at Vanderbilt to Literature at Middle Tennessee, Bill Holland not only blew me away with the Romantics, he became a close friend. Bill’s dissertation traced the themes of Chaucer through the British greats such as Shakespeare and Spenser to the Romantics. i was told (although i have been unable to verify it) he received a “first class” doctorate, one of ten recipients of such an honor, especially since the university was founded in 1582.

Regardless, Bill Holland was an impressive professor, and my respect for him as a professor and a friend makes a visit to the Scottish university a joy anticipated for me.

The locales planned for out visit are interesting. i know i will find them wonderful. But for me, having two weeks with my brother, sister, their spouses, and Maureen is the best part. It will be the first time and likely the only time just the six of us will be together without other family. This is special for me.

Initially, i was planning to take notes, some source material, etc. and continuing to post installments of Steel Decks and Glass Ceilings.

But i am old and don’t multi-task as well as i used to do. Come to think of it, when i went on liberty while deployed, i never, ever took any work with me. So there will be no installments of the book while i am on liberty. Nor is it likely i will post much of anything, except some thoughts about the trip until i return in mid-June.

i just wanted you to know.

Apologia

i was shooting to get the next installment out this past Sunday.

Nope.

i continued to miss Monday, Tuesday, and today, even with my golf being cancelled because of rain.

RAIN. Come on, i’m not complaining considering what’s happening to the rest of the country, but this is the most unusual San Diego May i’ve ever experienced. And it ain’t over. That could lower my productivity i think.

Regardless, i apologize. i’ve been working on this installment for four days of at least eight hours each day. Hmm, sounds like work. That’s okay. And i should point out all of those eight hours weren’t just working on the book.

But i’m disappointed i’m not getting this out as planned. i apologize to all.

Chapter 9: Settling into Masirah Anchorage

Chapter 9: Settling into Masirah Anchorage

The night before the ship anchored off Masirah, the XO made a challenge that worried him for two months. Each autumn, Navy commands conducted the “Combined Federal Campaign” fund drive. The Yosemite’s had been running for about a month.

The ship’s goal was to get 100 percent participation in giving to the fund and to give more than other commands. The XO thought he might influence both goals being met. So at Eight O’Clock Reports on the evening of Thursday, October 28, I put my foot in my mouth. I mildly chewed out the department heads, command master chief, etc. for not getting more crew members to donate. Then, I announced the executive officer would take the person who in ship’s company donated the most to the campaign out to dinner at our first liberty port. I followed that up by posting it as a note in the POD the morning before we reached our anchorage.

Almost immediately, I began to have doubts. I wondered what I would do if the crew member gave the most so he or she could bend my ear about how bad I or another officer was treating them. I was concerned a malcontent might do the same just to make one liberty night miserable for me. And I wasn’t looking forward to spending one of the few evenings I would have to relax ashore spent with a crew member I might not enjoy. But most of all, I worried I might have encouraged a

The night before the ship anchored off Masirah, the XO made a challenge that worried him for two months. Each autumn, Navy commands conducted the “Combined Federal Campaign” fund drive. The Yosemite’s had been running for about a month.

The ship’s goal was to get 100 percent participation in giving to the fund and to give more than other commands. The XO thought he might influence both goals being met. So at Eight O’Clock Reports on the evening of Thursday, October 28, I put my foot in my mouth. I mildly chewed out the department heads, command master chief, etc. for not getting more crew members to donate. Then, I announced the executive officer would take the person who in ship’s company donated the most to the campaign out to dinner at our first liberty port. I followed that up by posting it as a note in the POD the morning before we reached our anchorage.

Almost immediately, I began to have doubts. i wondered what I would do if the crew member gave the most so he or she could bend my ear about how bad I or another officer was treating them. I was concerned a malcontent might do the same just to make one liberty night miserable for me. And I wasn’t looking forward to spending one of the few evenings I would have to relax ashore spent with a crew member I might not enjoy. But most of all, I worried I might have encouraged a sailor to spend a lot more than they could afford just to have dinner with me.

The possibilities continued to bother me until the winner was announced at the conclusion of the CFC drive.

*    *     *

But as we went to anchorage, this executive officer had the problem overtaken by becoming busier than expected.

Once anchored, the world of Yosemite changed quickly. We were now at a place where we would remain for an undetermined amount of time. The operation of the air base  primarily was accomplished by British Royal Air Force personnel who were based there.We had received guidelines on what was expected of the ship by the Omani Air Force base on the island through government channels. Our Supply Officer, Commander Tim Allega had worked on the coordination for us. Most of the coordination on the Omani side was done by the British.

We were just off the coast of what was for all of us a strange land. We would find out more as crew members went ashore, but we tried to give the crew some ideas of what this strange land was like.

What we could and couldn’t do was pretty straightforward except for one item: trash. The word we received from shore was emphatic: there could be no trash floating up on the shore of Masirah. In  case you haven’t been on a ship, they do not get regular service from garbage and recycle trucks. Ships have to deal with it. For my entire time at sea, the way we dealt with it would give today’s environmentalists a heart attack. We dumped our trash over the fantail and watched it float away on our wake or sink. But Yosemite was not underway. We had a problem. The captain, department heads, and I put our heads together and came up with a plan. It was explained in the 01 November POD:

9. Trash/Garbage Procedures for Masirah Anchorage: While at the Masirah Anchorage, it is imperative that we take necessary steps to ensure all trash is bagged, sinkable, and dumped at optimum tide conditions. Accordingly, the following procedures will be applied.

The fantail is the only authorized trash dumping station. No coke cans or other items of trash are to be discarded over the side except as specified below.

All trash and garbage will be held on station until the authorized disposal time.

All trash will be compacted to the maximum extent possible and bagged in such a fashion as to prevent the load from coming apart before it sinks. (e.g.  coke cans or aerosol cans floating loose).

Take extraordinary steps to ensure no radio copy (classified or unclassified) or any classified material is mixed in with the trash.

Times for dumping trash will be published in the Plan of the Day. During the trash dumping period an EDF [Enlisted Dining Facility, i.e. the mess decks] will supervise at the fantail dumping station. He will make the determination as to whether or not a package is in compliance with the above procedures. In making this determination he is exercising a watch responsibility and will not be over ruled by a more senior petty officer. Any dispute over what is approved for dumping and what is not will be resolved by the quarterdeck OOD.

If it becomes necessary to send a boat to retrieve a package which did not sink, the offending division will provide the personnel to to ride the boat and fish out the mess.

Trash Dumping Hours for Today are:
0600-0700
1830-1930

We announced daily the times for dumping trash coinciding with the outgoing tides. We thought we had solved the problem.

This was just the beginning of the extra work we had due to our unique situation.

*     *     *

It was time for this executive officer to remember the admonishment Captain Roger Newman had given him when I departed the Okinawa for my change of duty to the Yosemite.

In my time at sea, one of the signs of a good ship handler was bringing his ship alongside a pier with no tugboats assisting. In today’s Navy, the increased size of the ships and the cost of repairing any damage if there was contact between the ship and pier has pretty much eliminated this maneuver without tugboats. In the case of tenders, their size and lack of maneuverability compared to destroyers and many amphibious ships in the early 1980’s, they nearly always used tugboats.

But we were in Masirah, at anchorage, not alongside a pier. There were no tugboats. For ships to come alongside and tie up for their maintenance periods the conning officers of the approaching ship had to demonstrate exceptional shiphandling capability.

The next day, the USS Fletcher (DD 992) was approaching our port side at 0900 and would not only test the seamanship of her conning officer but would also put me through one of the worst experiences of my tour.

As Fletcher made her approach,  our linehandlers were responsible for passing the  “messenger” lines (“ropes” to landlubbers) to the Fletcher linehandlers on their forecastle, amidships and on the stern. The Fletcher linehandlers would then tie the messengers to their mooring lines and our linehandlers would  pull the mooring lines back to Yosemite.  When the Fletcher moved into her mooring position (our rubber fenders were out over the side to buffer the ships from actual contact), the mooring lines would be secure.

Passing the messenger normally was done by two methods. One was heaving the lines by hand to the other ship. The other was using a shot line. A shot line was the messenger tied to a small

This was in an open sea  and bringing a ship alongside a ship at anchor required lines being passed as quickly as possible. The mooring lines were passed quickly on the forecastle, but the seas had separated the two sterns out from each other and the fantail linehandlers had not been  able to get their lines across. The captain began to become more forceful in his orders through his sound-powered phone talker to the fantail. George Sitton, the first lieutenant, spoke to me with some urgency. He essentially said the linehandlers aft couldn’t get the lines across and we should use the crane to pass the lines. i agreed. We suggested this to the captain. He did not agree and became more forceful in his commands to pass the lines aft.  As Georg and I became more belligerent in our recommendation, the lines were passed without the crane as the captain had ordered.

The lines were tightened and Fletcher was secured alongside. We secured from sea detail but before going below, the captain asked me to come to his cabin. i followed him and sat in the chair in front of his desk.

“XO,” he began, “Don’t you ever question my orders again in front of our crew or officers again! I cannot tolerate that kind of show of disrespect. If you disagree with a decision or order of mine, we can discuss in private, but never do that again.”

I not only knew he was correct in admonishing me, I was embarrassed I had forgotten that parting advice from Captain Newman: “You know when you become executive officer, your most important job is to support the captain,” he explained, “It doesn’t matter what you think about his decisions, if you don’t like his actions, or even if you don’t like him. Your job is to support him, to do anything to make him successful, to be his voice, his mirror reflection. That is your primary job.”

And I had forgotten. In my mind, I had committed a major blunder. It may have been done with good intention, but it was something an executive officer should never do.

I immediately responded to the captain, “Aye, aye, sir. i understand and apologize.” As I was leaving his cabin, I vowed I would never disagree with him in public again.

to spend a lot more than they could afford just to have dinner with me.

The possibilities continued to bother me until the winner was announced at the conclusion of the CFC drive.

*    *     *

But as we went to anchorage, this executive officer had the problem overtaken by becoming busier than expected.

Once anchored, the world of Yosemite changed quickly. We were now at a place where we would remain for an undetermined amount of time. The operation of the air base  primarily was accomplished by British Royal Air Force personnel who were based there.We had received guidelines on what was expected of the ship by the Omani Air Force base on the island through government channels. Our Supply Officer, Commander Tim Allega had worked on the coordination for us. Most of the coordination on the Omani side was done by the British.

We were just off the coast of what was for all of us a strange land. We would find out more as crew members went ashore, but we tried to give the crew some ideas of what this strange land was like.

What we could and couldn’t do was pretty straightforward except for one item: trash. The word we received from shore was emphatic: there could be no trash floating up on the shore of Masirah. In  case you haven’t been on a ship, they do not get regular service from garbage and recycle trucks. Ships have to deal with it. For my entire time at sea, the way we dealt with it would give today’s environmentalists a heart attack. We dumped our trash over the fantail and watched it float away on our wake or sink. But Yosemite was not underway. We had a problem. The captain, department heads, and I put our heads together and came up with a plan. It was explained in the 01 November POD:

9. Trash/Garbage Procedures for Masirah Anchorage: While at the Masirah Anchorage, it is imperative that we take necessary steps to ensure all trash is bagged, sinkable, and dumped at optimum tide conditions. Accordingly, the following procedures will be applied.

The fantail is the only authorized trash dumping station. No coke cans or other items of trash are to be discarded over the side except as specified below.

All trash and garbage will be held on station until the authorized disposal time.

All trash will be compacted to the maximum extent possible and bagged in such a fashion as to prevent the load from coming apart before it sinks. (e.g.  coke cans or aerosol cans floating loose).

Take extraordinary steps to ensure no radio copy (classified or unclassified) or any classified material is mixed in with the trash.

Times for dumping trash will be published in the Plan of the Day. During the trash dumping period an EDF [Enlisted Dining Facility, i.e. the mess decks] will supervise at the fantail dumping station. He will make the determination as to whether or not a package is in compliance with the above procedures. In making this determination he is exercising a watch responsibility and will not be over ruled by a more senior petty officer. Any dispute over what is approved for dumping and what is not will be resolved by the quarterdeck OOD.

If it becomes necessary to send a boat to retrieve a package which did not sink, the offending division will provide the personnel to to ride the boat and fish out the mess.

Trash Dumping Hours for Today are:
0600-0700
1830-1930

We announced daily the times for dumping trash coinciding with the outgoing tides. We thought we had solved the problem.

This was just the beginning of the extra work we had due to our unique situation.

*****

It was time for this executive officer to remember the admonishment Captain Roger Newman had given him when I departed the Okinawa for my change of duty to the Yosemite.

In my time at sea, one of the signs of a good ship handler was bringing his ship alongside a pier with no tugboats assisting. In today’s Navy, the increased size of the ships and the cost of repairing any damage if there was contact between the ship and pier has pretty much eliminated this maneuver without tugboats. In the case of tenders, their size and lack of maneuverability compared to destroyers and many amphibious ships in the early 1980’s, they nearly always used tugboats.

But we were in Masirah, at anchorage, not alongside a pier. There were no tugboats. For ships to come alongside and tie up for their maintenance periods the conning officers of the approaching ship had to demonstrate exceptional shiphandling capability.

The next day, the USS Fletcher (DD 992) was approaching our port side at 0900 and would not only test the seamanship of her conning officer but would also put me through one of the worst experiences of my tour.

As Fletcher made her approach,  our linehandlers were responsible for passing the  “messenger” lines (“ropes” to landlubbers) to the Fletcher linehandlers on their forecastle, amidships and on the stern. The Fletcher linehandlers would then tie the messengers to their mooring lines and our linehandlers would  pull the mooring lines back to Yosemite.  When the Fletcher moved into her mooring position (our rubber fenders were out over the side to buffer the ships from actual contact), the mooring lines would be secure.

Passing the messenger normally was done by two methods. One was heaving the lines by hand to the other ship. The other was using a shot line. A shot line was the messenger tied to a small

This was in an open sea  and bringing a ship alongside a ship at anchor required lines being passed as quickly as possible. The mooring lines were passed quickly on the forecastle, but the seas had separated the two sterns out from each other and the fantail linehandlers had not been  able to get their lines across. The captain began to become more forceful in his orders through his sound-powered phone talker to the fantail. George Sitton, the first lieutenant, spoke to me with some urgency. He essentially said the linehandlers aft couldn’t get the lines across and we should use the crane to pass the lines. i agreed. We suggested this to the captain. He did not agree and became more forceful in his commands to pass the lines aft.  As Georg and I became more belligerent in our recommendation, the lines were passed without the crane as the captain had ordered.

The lines were tightened and Fletcher was secured alongside. We secured from sea detail but before going below, the captain asked me to come to his cabin. i followed him and sat in the chair in front of his desk.

“XO,” he began, “Don’t you ever question my orders again in front of our crew or officers again! I cannot tolerate that kind of show of disrespect. If you disagree with a decision or order of mine, we can discuss in private, but never do that again.”

I not only knew he was correct in admonishing me, I was embarrassed I had forgotten the parting advice from Captain Roger Newman as I left Okinawa: “You know when you become executive officer, your most important job is to support the captain,” he explained, “It doesn’t matter what you think about his decisions, if you don’t like his actions, or even if you don’t like him. Your job is to support him, to do anything to make him successful, to be his voice, his mirror reflection. That is your primary job.”

And I had forgotten. I had made a major blunder in my mind. It may have been done with good intention, but it was something an executive officer should never do.

I immediately responded to the captain, “Aye, aye, sir. i understand and apologize.” As I was leaving his cabin, I vowed I would never disagree with him in public again.

And I turned my attention to how to run a ship with a crew of 800 men and 100 women while anchored off a strange land with no precedent from which to learn, and, oh yes, with a Spruance Class destroyer moored alongside, the first to receive our maintenance and repair services. It seemed like the deployment was becoming longer, not shorter.

 

 

A Slight Delay: Apologies…and Stand By

It hasn’t been a particularly good weekend.

i dedicated the two days to finishing our trellis painting after Paul Shipley and Jacob helped me…er, the two of them putting up the last replacement beam with me helping, and my posting the next installment of my book in progress.

Well, strange weather bit me in the…ah, you know. Pacific storms forming and then riding the Japanese Current after hurdled across the Southwest corner in spades, taking our derogatory term “May Gray” to a new level. Therefore, no painting on the trellis.

Worse, my installments are now dependent on my actually completing the draft. That’s why i went to a one a week on Sundays rather than two a week. i’ve got most of the stuff lined up through the deployment, but i wanted to make sure it all was correct from the standpoint of when and needed the ship’s logs on microfiche to verify.

i ordered the logs about twenty years ago, maybe more, at least before microfiche became antiquated. i had also bought a reader when they were abundant and cheap. But in my wisdom (not) while cleaning out the garage attic, i tossed it forgetting i needed it for the ship’s logs.

When i began this project, i realized i needed to read the microfiche. i bought a reader on eBay for $120 but the seller forgot to tell me it had been converted to battery power. i hooked it up and smoked the mother board. The guy took it back and refunded me but it set me back about two months.

So i started looking at libraries around here to find a reader. There were only two within a reasonable distance i could determine actually had one. So i spent about ten or twelve days driving to San Diego State and the Chula Vista main library to record the logged events up to the Yosemite arriving at anchorage of Masirah, Oman.

Since i’ve reached that point in the installments, i drove to the Chula Vista library yesterday. When the reader light would not come on, i went to the desk to determine why. It broke. They didn’t know when it would be fixed.

i thought i would try the internet again. i found several on eBay and Amazon. The ones on eBay seemed reasonable, like in the $200 range. However, they required the buyer to pay shipping which came close to doubling the cost. Boo.

So this morning, i decided to travel to SDSU and use the one i had found initially. i walked through the rain to the library, went down three floors to the basement, walked down the hall to the microfiche room where a locked door had a notice reading “Closed Until Further Notice.”

i was distraught so i did what all good sailors do. i came home mid-morning and had a beer.

Before taking my nap, a requirement for old farts who have a beer mid-morning, i decided to take one quick stab at Craig’s List. Bingo. Rick had put one up for sale two weeks ago. Twenty bucks. i took Maureen and Sarah to South Park, bought my monster, and took them to The Rose Wine Bar for lunch, a double good thing.

So the bottom line is there is not a real installment on the book today. i will get one out in the next day or two. The good news i am no longer inhibited by the lack of microfiche readers. After all, i have this monster:

Stand by. Installments on their way.

Oops to Chapter 8

Two days ago, my fat fingers hit the wrong button and a very rough draft of the beginning of Chapter 8 was posted rather then being filed in the “draft” folder.

i have deleted the post and am working on Chapter 8. The next installment will be posted before Friday.

i once again have proven i am technically challenged and sometimes…oh, okay, most of the time, a little goofy from aging.

i apologize for any confusion.

Chapter 8: En Route Masirah, Oman

Chapter 8: En Route Masirah, Oman
     Underway.
     There is nothing, nothing in the world like being  underway at sea, especially on a Navy ship. Aboard the Anchorage, the Okinawa,  and the Yosemite “underway” was particularly enjoyable to me. They were either doing the job they had been built to do, e.g. Anchorage’s job was to load and unload equipment and troops by landing craft, boats, or helicopters; Okinawa’s job was to fly helicopters; and Yosemite’s job was to provide repair and maintenance services.
     The umbilical cords had been severed. Underway, the ship had become its own entity. True, orders from above dictated where the ship was to go and what it was to do when, but it was the ship and her commanding officer that determined how she would accomplish her mission and how well she would fare.
     i loved my time aboard five destroyers USS Lloyd Thomas (DD 764), USS Hawkins (DD 873), USS Waldron (DD 699), USS Stephen B. Luce (DLG 7), and  USS Hollister (DD 788). They were true “greyhounds of the sea,” and could do so many things uniquely. They were either practicing in exercises or providing a forward presence for the most part. One could feel the sea when on a “tin can.” The landing ship dock, the helicopter carrier, and the tender were working ships. On cans, i felt like i was cavorting. On those other three, i felt more like i was serving my Navy and my country, working.
     And Yosemite was underway again. She felt good underway. Although I did not know how long we would be near Masirah, Oman, from experience I knew us being at work would make the time go faster. It was a good time for this Exec. He escaped from his desk with piles of paperwork, his inspections, and the lines of officers and enlisted outside his office to the bridge and watch junior officers at the task he had enjoyed throughout his career, usually on the maneuvering ship.
     Shortly after we cleared the toes of Diego Garcia and headed north we would be making US Navy history again. As discussed between the two commanding officers when McCormick was alongside in Diego Garcia, we transferred two of our women officers, Sharon Carrasco and Emily Baker, by small boat. The seas were calm and the boat transfer went off smoothly.
     They were undoubtedly the first women officers on a  deployed combatant in the US Navy. The plan, as i remember (but cannot find a source to verify) was for the two officers to remain on the McCormick until  the day before we reached Masirah, a period of five days. However, my recollection is we sent a radio message noting the transfer to our chain of command. Then we received a responding message with the order to transfer them back immediately because there were to be no Navy females, officer on enlisted, on combatants. It should be noted the commanding officer does not recall any such adverse orders and remembers Sharon and Emily’s time on McCormick was the scheduled three days and two nights, which was their actual  time aboard the guided missile destroyer. My recall, which can be spotty, may have been impacted by my sense then and now most senior officers in the Navy did not want the program to succeed.
     Regardless, the Yosemite’s time with The Lynde McCormick was good for our officers and crew. We had the opportunity to let our junior officers get a feel of Navy ships maneuvering. The McCormick began to make approaches alongside, giving their conning officers and ours training in what was a staple of ship handling in my time: underway replenishment.
     Yosemite, serving as the replenishment ship, maintained course and speed, normally twelve knots into the seas while the McCormick made approaches to approximately 120 feet off of our starboard beam. The McCormick’s conning officer would attempt to maintain station while our conning officers, under the watchful eye of Lieutenant Sitton and Captain Boyle, would ensure we maintained steady course and speed.
     There is no doubt in my mind our crew was excited and impressed and the junior officers learned a great deal about shiphandling.
     The two Yosemite  officers learned even more. After departing our company that day, they went off to do exercises at speeds the Yosemite could not approach. On the morning of the next day, McCormick conducted “man overboard” drills.
    a man overboard drill was one of the first exercises I experienced as an ensign aboard the USS Hawkins on her way back from a Mediterranean deployment in 1968. Admittedly, it took me a while to figure it out. The drill consists of throwing “Oscar,” a kapok lifejacket assembled to look like a person over the side.  Someone then yells, “Man Overboard, Starboard (or Port) side!” The word is passed to the bridge where the conning officer immediately begins to maneuver to clear the propellers from “Oscar” passing down the side, then reversing course to find “Oscar” and retrieve him with life buoys or since it is a life jacket dummy with a grappling hook (on bigger ships, small boats are used for the actual retrieval of “Oscar”). When Yosemite performed the drills, which was nearly always right after getting underway, Captain Boyle wanted the junior officers to learn difficult maneuvers and required them to get the ship close enough to retrieve the dummy with grappling hooks.
     Once “Oscar” is near, the conning officer maneuvers the ship as close as possible. If done correctly, the ship stops with “Oscar” right next to it. This is no easy feat. Knowledge of the ship’s turning radius, the engines’ action to take effect at different speed orders, the rudders’ responsiveness to turning, and the sea and wind conditions all must be factored in determining how to get close to “Oscar.”
     Ensign Emily Baker, when I asked (she is now married and her name is Emily Black), provided the following narrative of her experience during the drills on the McCormick:
…the Lynde McCormick‘s CO decided to hold man overboard drills. All the junior officers were assembled on the bridge wing and the fun began. It was a windy afternoon, which played havoc with the maneuvering. All the attempts resulted in some combination of being downwind of the dummy, surging past it, being dead in the water too soon, etc. Much backing & filling was required to retrieve Oscar each time for the next JO. The CO put me near the end of the line-up, which gave me ample time to study the wind and get a feel for how much the ship continued to swing after a turn and its momentum after stopping the engines. Finally it was my turn and I took the con. As we got back up to speed, I noticed that topside became quite crowded with sailors, compared to earlier in the exercise. Apparently, word had flown around the ship that one of the female officers was about to try her hand, and everyone wanted in on the show. I felt really confident and loved conning such a responsive ship. (Sorry, Yosemite, no disrespect intended!) After Oscar was tossed into the drink, I brought the ship around perfectly. We were at right angles to the wind, motionless with Oscar on the leeward side exactly below the bosun mate on the fo’csle. All he had to do was drop his grappling hook straight down to snag the dummy. The CO watched all this with a completely neutral face, then when Oscar was safely back on board he turned to his JO’s, raised an eyebrow, and said “Well, boys, you’ve just been shown up!”
     I felt on top of the world, and obviously I’m still feeling the glow decades later!
     This story continues to live on in family lore. I had my children at the tail end of my Navy career, and as a result they have no memories of my being on active duty. However, as they were growing up, my husband and I told them many stories of our military service. (My husband, John, was also a Navy SWO, although he didn’t stay in for an entire career.)  When my younger daughter started high school, her English teacher assigned the class to write a profile of someone they considered a hero. My daughter decided to write about me. She called her essay “My Navy Mother” and focused on how unusual it was in the early 80’s for women to serve on ships. She also included this story of the man overboard drill.
     I recall Emily recounting this story to some degree when she returned with Sharon on the small boat transfer. i thought to myself that being a conning officer on a ship does not require a man. I remember not only feeling like we were proving women on ships would work but more so feeling proud of Emily and Sharon and the Yosemite. 
     While the officers were gone on Thursday, October 27th, we lost our gyro. Long before GPS positioning, ships relied on the gyro compasses for navigating the ship. Celestial navigation was the definitive backup for the gyro system. Dead reckoning, using the ships course and speed and any available knowledge of current was a much rougher estimate of position on the ocean but that type of navigation also relied on the ship’s course, i..e. the gyro compass readouts. In other words, the gyro compass was critical for us to get where we wanted to go.
     The next day before we received the two female officers back aboard from the McCormick,  at 0509, the port shaft overheated. As I had learned earlier with the evaporator problem just before we left Mayport, it is a good thing to have your own repair department on board. The gyro and shaft problems might have been corrected by a combatant, but Yosemite could address such problems quickly and did in both of these situations.
     It was a good transit, but at “1708 OCT 30,” a Monday, the USS Yosemite anchored just over three miles off Masirah, Oman as had been agreed with the Omani government and our superiors in the chain of command.
     The next chapter in her deployment was about to begin.

Chapter 7: Diego Garcia and a Change of Plans, part three

i am now at the point where the installments will be written as we go. The previous installments were edited and amplified version of my rough drafts. So there are likely going to be more incorrect passages. As i have noted, i am not a great editor, especially of my own writing.

As i wrote this installment, this is a bit bigger task than i thought it would be. i will attempt to continue to post installments on Thursdays and Sundays, but the installments may become weekly. i still intend to play a bit of golf.

Thank you for your patience.

With the news of our schedule change, our stay in Diego Garcia took on a different tone with the focus shifting to getting underway for an extended at-sea period.

The ship’s in-port business continued as usual. Liberty ran as usual. We ran “I-Division” indoctrination for new crew members reporting aboard. The ship’s basketball team played games against different base organizations’ squads including the “All Island” team at the base gym. The ship’s softball team played several games including one against the “Near Term Predeployment Force.” Small arms qualifications were being conducted. Preparations and study for advancement exams were underway. And the civilian PACE instructors were conducting a number of courses for crew and officers.

Chaplain Poe held church services: Roman Catholic Mass on Saturday and two on Sunday, Protestant Services on Sunday and Protestant Bible Study on Wednesday, and “Free Worship on Sunday evenings, two Church of Christ lay services on Sunday, and Latter Day Saints lay services on Sunday. He was a busy man.

Military Justice also had to be served. This was not a crew of angels. Sailors were sailors and always will be. The results of a Captain’s Mast on Friday, 21 October, were listed in the next day’s POD and make this point for me:

  1. Captain’s Mast: The following are the results of Captain’s Mast helod on 21 OCT 83:
Rate Viol. UCMJ NJP Awarded
FN Art  92: Derelict in duty 30 Days Restriction to USS Yosemite, 30 days extra duty, RIR {reduction in rank} to E2
SN Art. 86: UA {Unauthorized Absence} from unit (2 specifications)
Art. 87: Missing ship’s movement
Art. 134: Breaking restriction
Awarded Summary Court Martial
SA Art. 89: Disrespect to a commissioned officer
Art. 128: Assault
(3 specifications)
Art. 134: Communicating a threat
(3 specifications)
Awarded Summary Court Martial
SA Art. 86: UA from unit
Art. 87: Missing ship’s movement
45 Days Restriction to USS Yosemite, 45 days extra duty, Forf {forfeiture of ½ month’s pay ($286.00) per month for 2 months, RIR to E1
SA Art. 92: Failure to obey a lawful general regulation 30 Days Restriction to USS Yosemite, RIR to E1, Forf of $100 pay per month for 1 month
SR Art. 86: UA from unit
(2 specifications)
Art. 87: Missing ship’s movement 
Awarded Summary Court Martial

Diego Garcia provided its own challenges. The following POD note demonstrates beach liberty could be dangerous:

Safety Note – Cone Shells

Venomous Cone shells can be found in the Diego Garcia area. They have a highly potent venom apparatus and their stings have caused paralysis, coma, and death. Avoid these shells. 

There was another more menacing threat in the waters around Diego Garcia. A 35-foot hammerhead shark had been occupying the lagoon for years. He was considered a pet and nicknamed “Hector” by the folks assigned to the island. Needless to say, swimming in the lagoon was not wise recreation.

It was easy to forget Diego Garcia was not a paradise. It was a beautiful tropical atoll, if humid, far away from where we came. I personally experienced such an awakening on my first stop there for about four days in 1981 while stationed on the USS Belleau Wood (LHA 3) as the current operations officer of the Amphibious Squadron Five staff. I had escaped from other officers and had stopped my vehicle on the side of the road past the Naval Air Facility. At that point, the atoll was less than a half mile across. I walked over a dune to the beach on the ocean side.

I first stumbled upon the carcass of a long dead fish about six feet long. I surmised it was a tuna of some sort but it had disintegrated into being undistinguishable even though there was still some skin attached to the bone. The thought of wading in the ocean quickly vanished with my discovery.

I decided to just walk the beach. I was at peace, almost meditating as I walked slowly along what I thought was a pebbly surface. Then I felt as if I was having a stroke or something. The long stretch of beach began to seem like it was pulsating, undulating, moving. I became dizzy. I wondered if it was a slow earthquake or if the volcano from which the atoll was formed was awakening. I wasn’t afraid yet, but I was concerned.

I kept observing. I looked down at my feet and realized the source of the strange movement. The entire beach was covered by tiny hermit crabs. They were all moving, producing the undulating movements for as far as I could see. I watched fascinated, trying to get my bearings before I finally left. I never went to the ocean side beaches again.

The ship also conducted the PFT (Physical Fitness Tests) over a period of three days. The Navy’s PFT program was created in 1976 over concern many of our sailors were not physically capable of being able to perform in combat or other dangerous situations on ships. This PFT effort was a follow-on to the “JFK” physical tests introduced in the 1960’s by the sitting president, John Kennedy. Ships made a gesture of complying to those tests but there was no concrete corrective action required in the program, and it was mostly ignored and gradually disappeared.

I was all for the new standards of physical fitness. I remembered a few enlisted shipmates from previous ships who were too obese to get through hatches. The new requirements not only required passing the minimum standards of pull-ups or push-ups, sit-ups, and a 1½ mile run, they established a “body fat” minimum.” At the time, failure to meet the body fat standards or to pass the PFT noted the service member could be administratively discharged – later, there was more teeth put into the program with on-board remedial programs for failures, and if that was not productive, the service member could be sent to a Navy program for failure at body fat reduction much like the earlier established drug and alcohol rehab programs. The program was quickly labeled the “fat farm” by sailors (In my final Navy tour, I had a most rewarding experience when I required a senior chief to go to the “fat farm”). If all of these failed to produced results, the service member could be administratively discharged.

Emily Baker (now Black), our DCA recalled the Yosemite included push-ups in our PFT, not pull-ups. Linda Schlesinger, one of our stars in the supply department remembers the command master chief, BMCM Weaver crossing the finish line of the run with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

It was late October. We had been away from our families for a month and a half. For many of the crew who had not deployed before, it felt like we had been gone for an eternity. Christmas was still two months away. But we were reminded we were not going to be like Elvis and be home for Christmas. We had set up a studio for videotaping Christmas messages back home. Those crew and officers who wished to send a message back home could be taped and the videos would arrive back home for the holidays. The tapings brought the realization of not being home for Christmas into clarity.

Although I did not make a video tape for Maureen or Blythe in Texas, I was lonely also. I had made three deployments from 1979 through 1981, but I had been a bachelor then and viewed them as long, hard work interspersed with lots of fun. Now I was married, had been with my wife for a whopping two weeks before the ship left Mayport, and I was lonely as I expressed in a (amended) letter her I wrote 20 October:

Lady,

i have decided, quite on my own, there is no way possible, no way, you can be the woman i think you are.

i mean, i mean, really mean i look at your pictures. By the hundreds, i look at your pictures and know, no matter how gawdawful (Southern term)good looking i think you are, how much more i think you are good looking in the first person.

There ain’t no possible way a woman could be as wonderful as i know you are. So what must i do?

Spend as much time for the rest of my life trying to be with you, at least enough to figure out how you can be this wonderful and how (god bless office panels) i could have found you.

Love, scooby dooby doesn’t hold a candle to our love, scooby dooby.

*     *      *

The possibility of sexual liaisons among crew members continued to concern the command, i.e. the captain, me, and senior officers and enlisted. Although we knew men and women forming romantic relationships would never be stopped, we felt we needed to keep them at a minimum. I was not sure such liaisons would have a disastrous effect on the crew and the command, but I knew such going-on’s could lead to some very difficult problems and possibly create friction in the crew. One of the main functions of my job as XO was to promote good morale. I also was the figurehead for good order and discipline. Both could be threatened if amorous relationships went south. Another important aspect was our charge, specifically the captain’s and therefore mine as well was to make the Women at Sea program successful. Pregnancies while deployed, any negative impact on the ship created by relationships between men and women crewmembers (as well as in the wardroom), fraternization between male and female sailors of different ranks, especially officers and crew would have disastrous effect and possibly destroy the program. I should add such problems would leave an incredible bad mark on the captain’s and my Navy careers.

We didn’t want to throw threats at the crew or continually remind them of keeping their distance. After all, that would be going against the mantra of not having women or men on the ship because they were all sailors first. Still, I felt reminders of acting like sailors would help. The ship held “Military Rights and Responsibility,” “Culture Expression,” and “Women at Sea workshops on a regular basis. I also would frequently add POD notes reminding all hands the weather decks were off limits after taps even during in port periods.

*     *     *

Yosemite was now engaged knee deep in preparing to go to sea. Departments were ensuring they would have the needed supplies for the voyage north and our stay off Masirah (with no definite end date set yet). It was a busy time, but considering all, it was pretty much that way the entire deployment.

On Monday, 24 October, the Lynde McCormick moors alongside to refuel in the morning. That afternoon, Yosemite returns to the POL piers to refuel and then return to her anchorage.

0800, Tuesday, 25 October 1983, USS Yosemite gets underway for the North Arabian Sea and the island of Masirah, Oman. A new chapter of Navy history is begun.